Jennie
Lisa and I spent the rest of the weekend locked in our suite, subsisting on room service and orgasms and christening every surface—though I'm not sure "christening" was the right word to use, considering how filthy our activities were.
Sex with Lisa was sex like I'd never known it. Raw. Animalistic. Soul-destroying in the best possible way. It shattered every preconceived notion of who I was and molded me into something darker, more depraved. She called me Sunshine one moment and her whore the next.
And I loved it.
Even at her coldest, Lisa had always treated me with respect outside the bedroom, but inside the bedroom, I was her toy. Her to fuck and use—in the shower, pressed against the window, bent over the desk—and I craved it as much as she did.
I screamed, my core clenching around her cock for what must've been the thousandth time as another orgasm ripped through and broke me into a million pieces of ecstatic agony.
When the fog of pleasure finally faded, I found Lisa staring down at me with a smirk.
"What?" I murmured, too drowsy with content to utter more words.
"I love watching you come apart." Her hands gripped my hips possessively. "Only for me, Sunshine. Never forget that."
"What would you do if I did?" I'd meant it as a tease, but Lisa's eyes glittered with danger as her fingers dug into my flesh.
"You'd have a man's murder on your hands. Is that what you want?" she grazed my skin with her nose before she sank her teeth into the side of my neck—punishing and marking me at the same time.
Pain and pleasure burst through me. "Careful," I breathed. "Or you'll ruin your reputation for unfeeling sex."
"No one else will see me this way. Only you."
Before I could rein in the out-of-control butterflies in my stomach, someone knocked on the door. "Who is that?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around her words. No one else will see me this way. Only you.
A grin tugged at my mouth.
"Room service. We ordered it before you cornered me and had your way with me." Lisa rolled out of bed and laughed softly when I mock glared at her from my pile of wonderful, fluffy pillows.
"For someone with a supposedly 'superior' memory, you seem to have forgotten that you're the one who woke me up with an urgent…issue." I arched an eyebrow, remembering the sensation of her hands cupping my breasts and her cock rubbing against my ass this morning.
"Did I?" she flashed a lazy smile, and I all but melted into a pile of goo. I would never tire of Lisa's smiles. I'm sorry, honey, but it's over, I told my poor heart. You don't belong to me anymore. "How inconsiderate of me."
It wasn't until she brought back our breakfast that I realized I was starving.
Sex , I decided as I nibbled on a croissant, is my favorite form of exercise.
But as incredible as the weekend had been, we had to return to reality tomorrow, and there were things we still needed to discuss.
"Lisa…"
She sighed and set her coffee down. "I know."
"What will we tell Suho?" I winced, imagining my brother's reaction. I should buy full-body armor, just in case.
"We're both adults. It's our decision what we do with our lives." Nevertheless, Lisa grimaced. "We'll tell him in person when he comes home for Christmas."
I nodded. Okay, that gave us over a month to prepare—though I wasn't sure anything would prepare us for the shitstorm Suho would unleash once he found out his baby sister and best friend were sleeping together. Which brought me to my next question…
"So, what exactly will we say? I mean—" I stabbed at a strawberry, hating myself for bringing this up during such a blissful weekend but also knowing we needed to figure out where we stood before we spiraled into a mess of misunderstandings and uncertainty. "Are we friends with benefits? Dating? Exclusive or non-exclusive?"
Lisa gripped my chin and brought my gaze to her. "What did I tell you? You're mine, Sunshine. You're never touching another man unless you want him six feet in the ground. So yes, we're fucking exclusive."
Was it bad that her words turned me on so much? Probably, but I didn't care. "Same for you and other women." I scowled, remembering Mina. "No matter how much they throw themselves at you or…or look like a supermodel. How many women have you slept with, anyway?"
Her grip loosened, and her dark chuckle set off flutters in my stomach. "Jealous, Sunshine?" she purred. "I like this side of you."
"You didn't answer my question."
"It doesn't matter." Lisa rolled me over until I was beneath her again. "All that matters is I'm only sleeping with one woman from now on."
"So, is that what we are?" I gasped when she slid her rapidly hardening cock along my already-wet slit. "Fuck buddies?"
"Among other things." She fished a condom from our dwindling supply—she'd had to run out yesterday for a box—and pinned my wrists above my head before thrusting into me. "You want to fuck, we fuck. You want to date, we date. You want to call me your girlfriend, I'll call you my girlfriend. But for now, let me take care of that needy little pussy of yours, hmm?"
And she did.
My shameless moans soaked the air as Lisa pounded me into the mattress, her thrusts so rough the bedsprings squeaked and the headboard slammed against the wall.
A tingling sensation blossomed at the base of my spine. I reached up to play with my nipples, my breaths coming out in short pants. I was close. So close . I was going to—
The unwelcome ring of an incoming call interrupted our obscene symphony of moans and grunts, followed by a cool voice.
"This is Lisa."
My eyes flew open. I gaped at Lisa, who stared down at me with a calm expression as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. Gone was passionate, playful Lisa; in its place was the composed businessman Lisa.
"No, I'm free to talk. What happened with the Wilbur development?"
Free to talk? She was still inside me!
She wasn't moving, but I could feel every hard inch of her buried in between my thighs.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she shot me a warning look and pressed the fingers of her free hand into my hip, silencing me.
"Bastard," I mouthed. I knew Lisa was ambitious, but I'd never expected her to take a business call in the middle of freakin' sex.
What was worse, I'd been about to come, and I was left squirming with need while she discussed square footage and building plans.
I rolled my hips up, desperate for friction. Her eyes flared and her grip tightened before she slid out of me. She muted her end of the call, placed it on speaker, and hauled me off the bed with one arm while she carried her phone in the other.
"What are you doing?" I wrapped my legs around her waist while the man on the other end of the line droned on about zoning laws.
Lisa deposited me next to the couch. "Bend over and spread your legs."
Lust speared through me at her authoritative tone. I trembled but obeyed, placing my hands on the armrest, arching my back, and spreading my legs until every inch of me was bared to her.
Satisfaction curled in my stomach when I heard her sharp intake of breath.
The man stopped talking, and Lisa unmuted the line to answer his question.
I could see my reflection in the large glass window opposite the couch. Wanton and flushed, my hair tousled from our sex marathon and my breasts hanging heavy and full. Behind me, Lisa stood proud as a sculpted god, her face carved with brutal lust as she squeezed my ass.
My soft moan turned into a squeal when she slammed into me hard enough that the couch scraped forward an inch.
"Don't make a sound," she warned. "This is an important call."
The flames of desire burned hotter. I should be upset that she was on a business call of all things while fucking me, but I was so turned on I couldn't see straight. There was something so dirty and delicious about fucking while her partners prattled on, clueless.
Lisa's thrusts picked up a steady, punishing rhythm until I was no longer gripping the armrest—I was on the couch itself, my hips draped over the arm, my face buried in the cushions, my rock-hard nipples and swollen clit scraping against the fabric as she fucked me so viciously my feet lifted off the ground.
All the while, she continued her call, taking it off mute only when she had to speak. When she did, her voice remained calm and even, though I could hear her harsh breathing in the moments when she was silent. I had no clue what they were talking about anymore, too lost in a fog of lust to decipher specific words and phrases.
An unbidden yelp erupted from my throat when she hit a spot that caused my back to bow.
Lisa fisted my hair and tugged my head back until I was half-upright again while her other hand closed around my throat. A warning and a reminder rolled into one. Don't make a sound.
I tried my best. I really did. But I was a mess—I could see it in the window, my tear-streaked face and glazed eyes, my mouth hanging slack as orgasm after orgasm crashed over me in an endless, white-hot wave of sensation. Was it possible to die from too much pleasure? If so, that was what was happening. I was dying a million tiny deaths, each one ripping me apart and piecing me back together only for the next to destroy me again.
Another sob of pleasure, one that had Lisa releasing my hair so she could cover my mouth and muffle my whines.
One hand over my mouth, one hand around my throat.
I came again, my entire body shuddering with the force of my explosion.
Lisa fucked me harder, deeper, the couch screaming with protest—it had slid halfway across the floor by now, its progress impeded only by the wall—and I realized it was otherwise quiet.
The call was over.
"I thought you were better at following directions, Sunshine," she said silkily. "Didn't I tell you not to make a sound?"
I responded with an incoherent mumble—my failed attempt at apologizing.
"No words?" Lisa slid her hand down from my throat to my nipples. She pinched them hard, one after the other, eliciting another jumbled moan. "Did I fuck your brains out, my gorgeous slut?"
Considering I couldn't even remember my name, probably.
And as the minutes—hours—rolled into each other, I lost myself in her. In us.
In sweet, filthy, depraved oblivion.